


Pandora's box

by hanhanhan156



Series: Tales from the Stadium Tour [3]
Category: Rammstein
Genre: Alternative First Meeting, Alternative band history, But Reesh to the rescue, But a bit of drama as well, Developing Relationship, Flake reads fanfiction, Flashback, Fluff, I dunno why this ended up being so poetic suddenly, M/M, Ollie stalks Tumblr, Paul is confused about all the emotions he has, Richard sings in a car, Richard's POV as well, Stadium Tour 2019, The infamous Paulchard kiss, Things don't go so well for Paul, a bit humor, headcanons, once again, stage fright
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-10-19 05:24:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20651912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanhanhan156/pseuds/hanhanhan156
Summary: The Stadium Tour is about to start and Till thinks they still need something to spice their show up a little – like a cherry on top. The perfect solution comes from an unexpected resource, leading into unexpected results.One could even say that the Pandora's box will finally be opened.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is it, I had to make my own Paulchard kiss fic as well even though there are several ones already. I had this idea for a long time and my head was almost like screaming for this to be written down, so here is the result.
> 
> Also, I had to break the promise with myself to make only fics with one chapter and I decided to separate this story in two - the two parts have quite different atmosphere and otherwise, it would have been super long.
> 
> Hopefully, you'll like my stupid jokes mixed with some fluff and even drama. The tension between Reesh and Paul is tightening!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT July 2020.
> 
> No one probably even reads this anymore, but I had to proofread it, it was terrible at first, lmao.

Paul was awoken by distant chattering and panicking voices around. He opened his eyes slightly and saw blurry figures bustling around him.

_ What in the bloody hell is going on here? _

“Gott im Himmel, did he have an epilepsy attack or what happened? Shit, this is my fault, it was my idea in the first place…” Paul could hear Flake’s usually quiet voice, now loud and trembling.

“It’s nobody’s fault. We just have to make sure he’s okay,” Till interrupted the panicking keyboardist’s ramble. Of course, he was slightly alarmed as well, but he knew that in this kind of situation, it really didn’t help if everyone around you were being hysteric.

Even though Paul couldn’t see properly, he felt somebody holding his hand, stroking it softly at the same time. “I really don’t know what happened, we just have to wait…” the figure sobbed.

Paul got a bit annoyed about all of this. Why was everybody so upset about him suddenly? Without saying anything out loud, he decided he had to sit up. He wasn’t  _ a cripple _ , for Christ’s sake.

But, his intentions were swiftly interrupted by strong arms.

“Let go of me!” he shouted and didn’t want to admit that moving had made him even dizzier.

“Shh, everything’s fine. You should rest now,” was the only answer he could hear from the same figure who had been holding his hand, now gently pushing him back to the floor.

Paul closed his eyes again and pressed his hand against his forehead. If he wouldn’t have had this terrible headache he would certainly have stood up and walked away from this - just like nothing had happened. “Okay, what’s going on here?” He tried to pinch himself.  _ Or am I dreaming? _

Now, he finally saw that the person who had been next to him the whole time was Richard - his glossy eyes made Paul uneasy. “We…really don’t know, but thank God, you are awake again. We were so worried about you…everything happened so quickly, we didn’t know what we should do.”

Once again, a vague answer. “…okay? What’s going on in here and why are you looking like that?”

Paul tried to focus when his fellow guitarist looked at him straight in the eyes, his gorgeous face still fuzzy for him. “How much do you remember?” Richard’s voice sounded like it was coming from the distance even though they were so close to each other.

Paul tried his best to comprehend this all. “Well, something happened and suddenly, I’m on the floor and you all look like that. Please, can you just tell me, what this shit is all about? I’m sick of these unclear answers of yours.” He felt like the headache - which he’d had the whole day - was getting stronger when he tried to concentrate on thinking.

Till sat down next to them and sighed. “To make it short, you fainted while we were having a rehearsal.”

That sounded extraordinary. He had fainted before in school when he was an adolescent, but never as an adult. “But… why in the hell I’d faint in a rehearsal? Did something…unusual happen before?” Paul tried his best to recall but the incidents before were still so vague - and thinking still made his headache just worse.

All his fellow bandmates looked slightly awkward.

“Maybe Reesh could tell about it …more detailed,” Till managed to say finally.

~***~

It all originated from the day before when they’d had a meeting. Most of their upcoming spectacle was already planned - still, that infamous  _ something _ was missing. Perhaps, some small details, or surprises.

“So, what do you think, should we…spice things up a bit?” Till asked while they were sitting around the round table which had become way too familiar for them during their rehearsals. Richard was yawning visibly - he thought that these meetings were the most boring parts of being a band. And in his opinion, the show was already great enough, so there was no point to add anything anymore.

“What do you mean?” Schneider asked.

“Something a bit unplanned, something which might shock the audience a bit - something political even, but not too much. I don’t know about you, but at least I don’t want to be in jail after our tour is finished.”

Everybody - except for Richard, who was trying to annoy Paul by poking his toes under the table - tried to think something suitable.

“Hey, I have an idea!” Schneider yelled, and to Paul’s relief, his fellow guitarist stopped his aggravation finally.

“Okay, tell us,” Paul said and glanced his fellow grinning guitarist murderously.

“What if we dressed up as women? It was so much fun in earlier tours when I was Frau Schneider. This time, we all could come up with a female character for each other. I’m sure it would be a success!”

There were some amused snorting and slight giggling. Everybody knew that Schneider was fond of dressing up as a female, but he still didn’t have to suggest that every single time when they were thinking to add something new to their show.

Their singer was the only one who had the guts to say it out loud: “Schneider, even though you love it, dressing up as women is totally out of context. We already agreed that Bück dich is not included, and there are way too many costumes already, so I’m sorry to announce that Frau Schneider or any other female character is not gonna have her magical moment this time.”

Schneider pouted. “Yeah, whenever Till or Reesh has an idea, everybody agrees, but when I’m excited about something, you all think it’s Scheisse.”

“It’s nothing personal,” Till said with a sigh and tried to move the discussion to other subjects before Richard would start his arguments against the drummer. “Okay, does somebody else have anything in mind?”

After another silent moment, unexpectedly, Flake raised his hand, his eyes fixed on the table. He was so shy and reserved that he always felt uneasy when everybody’s attention was at him. “I-I might have an idea if it’s ok to tell it.”

“Of course,” rest of his bandmembers said all together. They still didn’t understand, why Flake always had to ask for permission when he wanted to express his ideas and opinions. He was part of the family as much as everyone else.

The keyboardist stood up and started his speech: “Well, in the era of gay rights, I was thinking that we could…well, this is perhaps a stupid idea, but--” He froze for a moment, and Till smiled at him and gestured. 

“Carry on, it sounds very promising.”

Flake cleared his throat and tried to force a smile on his face. “We could… umm… wave the rainbow flag at some point…you know, for example, when we are boating through the audience. And also…I don’t know from where this came from, but… some of us could kiss each other.”

He could sense the atmosphere getting a tiny bit awkward - or the truth was that everybody was just trying to comprehend what they had just heard, it had nothing to do with Flake. “I… it might be a bit shocking for some people, but not too much, or at least I think so. Besides, it might raise some interesting reactions from the media. Definitely not everybody’s gonna like it, but we could ask ourselves, when our band hasn’t been controversial.”

When Flake stopped, he dared to look at his bandmates, but couldn’t read anything from their expressions. He suddenly started to panic and stuttered: “E-es t-tut mir l-leicht, it was a bad and b-boring idea…maybe Reesh or Paul has something better. I-I’m not good at this…”

Till raised his hand. “Stop it, Flake.” Then he stood up and approached the embarrassed man who was still in front of everyone. Till put his hands on his friend’s shoulders and slowly, a smile was curving on his face. “That’s…a brilliant idea! I’ve always thought that you really are a genius!” Then, to Flake’s horror, Till hugged him. Everybody else was nodding and showing their agreement as well.

“Have to admit, it’s a good idea…”

“Not bad at all…”

Till and Flake came back to the table, the latter man resembling a ghost. Usually, when people were ashamed they started blushing, while Flake always turned completely pale.

“I have to admit that’s a brilliant idea indeed,” Richard said. “So, who do you want to kiss, Flake?”

“I-I didn’t mean it should be me! I… was thinking that maybe someone else…”  _ with better looks and more confidence,  _ he almost added.

“C’mon Flake, it’s not so bad,” Paul tried to convince the keyboardist. “Besides, you can choose whoever you want from the most perfect alternatives of this universe.”

“The man has suffered enough,” Till said because he didn’t want Flake to be any more upset. “I have forced him to do Bück dich and I’m already gonna cook him in the show, so maybe someone else should sacrifice himself.”

“Besides, I don’t want to be involved in the fanfictions which might appear after the… incident, if we decide to include it in our show,” Flake added.

Everybody looked puzzled and Flake thought that maybe he just should shut himself up finally.

“What’s a… fanfiction?” Schneider asked, innocently.

Paul gave a laugh. “Seriously, do you live under a rock or something?”

“Well, I’m sorry that I have a life and I’m not spending all my precious free time stalking the Internet!”

Oliver, who hadn’t said anything yet, clarified their drummer’s question: “Fanfiction means stories from basically anything - or anyone - you can imagine. The writers choose characters from the media they want - for example, us - and write whatever they want. Somebody could write a story about us being vampires in a haunted medieval village or superhero cats in space for example.” Flake was totally relieved that he didn’t have to answer.

Schneider snorted. “But I don’t get it, who wants to make stories…about us? Somebody who doesn’t have any other life?” It was impossible for him trying to figure out, what kind of person would want to write a story about them and even  _ enjoy _ it.

Richard looked at the distance with a dreamy look. “I definitely like the idea and I’m not against it if people are writing about me.” Then he turned back to Flake and asked: “Can you tell me, from where can I find these fanfictions or what were they called?” A sly smile was forming on his face before he continued: “And why do you know so much about them in the first place, may I ask?”

Flake was an old Star Trek and Star Wars fan, so that was why he knew quite much about the Internet and fandom culture. But he didn’t want to it say out loud, that he’d been stalking Rammstein fanfiction as well - just for curiosity, of course. “Well, there’s a site called AO3, if you really want to check it out. But I’ll warn you beforehand, some of the stories are a bit…questionable.”

Richard raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by ‘questionable’?”

Just when Flake was about to answer, again, Oliver made it first: “They are, to be honest, usually pretty gay. Our fans are crazy, I can tell you. And if you want to be more entertained, just go to a site called Tumblr and put our band’s name in the search bar. You won’t be disappointed, I assure you.”

The newly learned facts just arose more interest in Richard. “That’s…fascinating,” he said and was about to start browsing his phone. This sounded way too juicy to skip. He could only wonder what kind of content there was about him on the Internet.

But before anything happened, Till took the phone from the guitarist’s hand and laughed out loud. “Guys, guys, seriously…just check your fanfictions, or whatever they are, later. Now we must concentrate on the show. Only a couple of weeks left, so we have to work hard to polish everything.”

“C’mon Till, you can’t say that you aren’t interested at all what our fans are writing about us!” Richard yelled while Till was busy hiding his phone.

“So, who wants to do the kissing? Any volunteers?” Till asked and didn’t mind about Richard’s piercing gaze. Their lead guitarist looked like a schoolkid whose dad had just taken his Gameboy away.

“So, you are not willing to do it?” Richard asked sarcastically.

“Well, if nobody else wants, I’m up for it, but I just wanted to be polite.”

Richard stood up and announced: “I’ll do it if no one else wants.” The idea of being involved in fan stories was alluring indeed and besides, he liked to be the center of attention.

“Very well,” Till said.

“So, who am I gonna kiss?”

“You can choose yourself, of course.”

In his heart, Richard already knew the answer, but still, he tried to make the atmosphere tense and was acting like he had hard time choosing. “The one who will have the honor to be kissed by me is…”

Richard looked one by one at all his familiar band members gathered around the table. Flake was out of the question. Oliver was like kissing a tablecloth, so not very tempting. Kissing Till was quite boring, and he was already busy enough on the stage. Schneider would have been a nice alternative, but he was behind the drums all the time, so it might be a bit difficult. That left him only one - and the best - alternative.

“…Paul,” he announced finally, smirking like an idiot to his fellow guitarist.

Till turned to Paul.  _ How I am not surprised at all. _ “Is it okay for you? And of course, we can rehearse it and stuff, no worries about it.”

“Yeah, it’s…fine,” Paul answered, trying to sound cool even though he felt a bit unpleasant twitch in his stomach when he visualized the kissing with his fellow guitarist. Of course, they’d had that awkward semi-romantic moment before when Richard had shown his outfits, but this time, it was going to be  _ public _ , for thousands of people.

Richard winked to Paul. “So, when are we gonna rehearse this spectacular moment?”

The day was going to end soon, so to Paul’s relief, they didn’t have any time left. “Maybe tomorrow, I really have to get home soon.”

“So, tomorrow it is then. I cannot wait,” Richard whispered right in front of the other guitarist’s face.

Paul was now seriously thinking maybe he should stay at home tomorrow and lie that he has stomach flu. Then, he wouldn’t have to come and they all could forget the idea.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go to the chapter 2. ~  
Be prepared for some disgustingly romantic and awkward fluff, seasoned with a pinch of angst and conflicted emotions.

Perhaps the first time ever in his life Paul had really prayed that he would have woken up being sick, but of course, always when you really wished for something to happen, it never came true. Instead, he was now standing in the spotlights with his fellow guitarist, waiting anxiously what was going to happen.

It was difficult to remember the last time when being this nervous on stage. The odd - but still, at least a bit - intriguing feeling had been inside Paul since yesterday’s meeting; he could feel it both in his stomach and in his head. He cursed himself why there always had to be this nasty headache forming when being under a stress - the only thing he could do now was trying to ignore it. There was nothing to worry about - even the so-called audience consisted of only their bandmembers and some random people from the tour staff. Still, Paul felt like being in a cheesy episode of Germany’s got Talent; their superpower, apparently, being able to kiss each other. Very useful skill indeed.

“Okay, so what are we going to do now?” Paul asked, not only from his future kissing partner but from all the inquisitive people gathered together in the room.

“Just improvise,” Till answered and smirked. Paul rolled his eyes in secret. _You and your eternal improvising…_

“And do we have to…do our thing in the middle of the song, or in the end, or what?”

“As I said: improvise.”

Paul was annoyed by not getting any instructions. It wasn’t his idea in the first place, so why he had to be in charge of everything all of a sudden.

“So, we just play something and…kiss at some point?”

Till nodded. Even though he was excellent at hiding his excitement outside, he couldn’t wait to see their two lovebirds in action.

One member from the tour staff came to the stage and started to play their songs randomly from the record so they could choose which one they wanted.

First was Ohne dich. Just when the song started, Richard snorted: “Way too romantic. We’re not in Titanic.”

Next was Sehnsucht. “Way too loud, a banger doesn’t suit for the sweet moment.”

Then, Zeig dich. “C’mon, sounds like we are gays in a church.”

It didn’t surprise Paul at all that nothing suited for his fellow guitarist today. After all, he was a diva, accompanied by perfectionism. “Meine Güte, does it really matter in the end? Let’s just do it and we can move to more important things.”

“I want the moment to be _perfect_,” Richard answered. “Besides, what could be more important than this?”

_We’ve been talking about this lovely trait of yours earlier, verdammt._ “The next song will be it and we’ll just _improvise_,” Paul decided, ignoring Richard’s last sentence.

The next song was Ausländer. Finally, to Paul’s relief, his fellow guitarist seemed to stop his eternal complaining, so they could finally start rehearsing. They acted like they were really playing in a concert even though the song was coming from a record.

The catchy chant went on and Paul was so nervous that he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He was just trying to force a smile on his face and playing some completely random chords which weren’t even from the song. Luckily, Richard - who was more talented at hiding his worry - had more courage and during the final harmonies, he was approaching Paul, looking determined.

When Richard was standing only inches away from the other guitarist, the only thing they could do was to stare at each other in amazement. Neither of them had a clue how they were supposed to proceed, and the first attempt ended up failing because they cracked up completely - it was their way to disentangle the huge stress.

“Okay, doesn’t matter, let’s try again. We still have plenty of time,” Till shouted from the audience, gesturing them to carry on.

The second, the third and the fourth attempt failed as well and it seemed like it was only getting worse - they weren’t being serious anymore. Paul thought for a second that maybe they’ll just give up on the idea and he’ll get out of this misery. _Gott sei Dank._

The audience was getting restless as well. “C’mon, it can’t be that hard, show us your best!” Schneider yelled.

As his last straw, a random idea popped up into Paul’s mind - he didn’t want their childish giggling to continue forever, so he had to act somehow. “Okay, okay, let’s try one more time and if this fails, we’ll give up.”

The song went on and the same things happened as earlier. The audience was literally holding their breath - will they succeed this time or is it a lost cause?

The end of the song eventually came, and Richard approached Paul the fifth time, his mind completely numb. Like his friend, Richard was frustrated as well. It was supposed to be only one little smooch, so why it suddenly was so goddamn difficult.

They stared at each other once again like they were two different species from different planets. Richard was sure that this would end up failing as well. Maybe Paul was right - maybe they should come up with another idea when this didn’t seem to work as they wanted.

But unexpectedly, Paul smirked slyly and raised his eyebrows, his eyes still fixed on Richard’s.

Till stood up in the audience and applauded. “Wunderbar, that’s perfect! Just like two gay roosters, having their obscure mating dance. Carry on!”

The gesture sparked something inside Richard - it was like a silent invitation, to let him in after so many unsuccessful attempts. Unconsciously, he licked his lips and inhaled - he was finally ready for this. Even though Paul’s gesture looked goofy outside, Richard took it dead seriously. Throwing all the earlier hesitation away, he grabbed Paul from his nape and dragged him towards his lips. _If this is what you want, I’m more than happy to give it to you then._

The audience was immediately on fire when they saw what was happening. The room was filled by roaring whistles and exclamations, but right now, the two men, too busy with each other, didn’t really follow anything that was going on. The surroundings were revolving around as rapidly as their heartbeats - Paul was completely sure that his heart was going to burst out from his chest. As their romantic moment seemed to last forever - while in reality, it was over after a couple of seconds - Paul could feel the throb in his head getting heavier and heavier. He was trembling from head to toe and his body temperature was changing from sweating to shivering from cold. It almost felt like he got a fever suddenly.

They finally parted with a loud smack - it literally sounded like it was echoing there - and neither of them didn’t dare to look at each other. Paul backed up, trying to look busy while putting his guitar back to the stand. In his ears, he heard a disturbing mixture of the rapid heartbeat and a high-pitched noise. The taste of the kissing was still on his lips and the intoxicating scent of the other man was hovering around. Paul felt like he was being high - and not on drugs, on_ Richard_. He heard later from his bandmates that they were seriously thinking he had been inebriated because he was acting so weird.

Paul noticed that someone was asking something from him - was it Richard speaking? It was difficult to comprehend anything anymore.

“I’m not feeling…very…well…” was the only thing he managed to mumble before everything went first clouded and then completely black.

* * *

The atmosphere back in the meeting room was more hectic than in their usual gatherings. Paul was sitting on the uncomfortable couch, watching everybody fussing around even though there was nothing to worry about anymore – especially not about him. He was completely ashamed because of the incident he had caused. The other guys hadn’t even let him walk from the rehearsal on his own - instead, they had carried him, and it had reminded Paul of a grotesque funeral procession. He had tried his best to assure that everything was completely fine, but no one listened to him. What had happened was that the stress had been released by the most embarrassing way possible: by having a blackout in front of everyone, after his bandmate had _kissed_ him. Paul couldn’t still believe it, even though Richard had explained everything subsequently. Luckily, this hadn’t been a real show at least.

Richard had handed Paul a blanket - it was useless when it wasn’t actually cold at all in the room. Still, Paul had to admit that it was a sweet gesture. His friend was constantly asking was everything okay and did Paul need anything - he was acting like a chicken mom which would have been actually amusing if the situation wouldn’t have been so awkward in general.

While pondering Paul noticed that Richard was approaching him with a steaming mug in his hand. “How are you feeling?” he asked the thousandth time, handing the hot chocolate for his friend. Paul was secretly flattered - he had probably ages ago told his friend that hot chocolate was his favorite drink, and still, Richard remembered it.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking.” Paul stared at the mug and gave a dry laugh. “I just can’t believe that this actually happened, you even had to carry me…” He shook his head and whispered: “How embarrassing, I can only wonder, what the audience must be thinking now.”

Opposite to his usual banter, Richard looked surprisingly thoughtful when he said: “Well, things tend to happen, and we can’t help but deal with them later.” Then he, out of the blue, took his friend’s hand and continued: “But, promise me, if anything I’m doing or saying makes you distressed, you’ll tell me straight away, right?”

Paul gulped when the sudden proximity made him uneasy. “Yes…o-of course.”

There was a brief, awkward moment between them while Richard was just staring at Paul’s hand, drawing circles on it gently at the same time. Neither of them didn’t exactly know what to say even though it was visible that something was going on between them.

Paul was already thinking to escape to the toilet or hide somewhere else before things would escalate once again when Till saved the situation by shouting from the door: “Reesh, can you come here?”

“Like, now?”

“Yes, right now, it’s an urgency.”

Richard turned to Paul. “Entschuldigung, I’ll talk to you later. Don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything, ok?”

When his friend stood up and walked towards the door, Paul tried his best not to look at the gorgeous buttocks, covered by a bit too tight pants - it was an eternal question what the point of having so many belts was. Paul was secretly relieved - now he could have his own time, at least for a while. There was an enormous rollercoaster of emotions in his head and right now, even though how much he was being fond of his friend, he couldn’t stand his adorable, worried eyes. And most importantly, he didn’t want to have any risk of fainting again which was still highly probable.

* * *

Half-asleep in the car - Richard had insisted to give him a ride back home because he still wasn’t convinced by his fellow guitarist’s reassurances - Paul was listening to Richard’s voice, mixed with Jim Morrison’s singing from the car stereos.

_“The time to hesitate is through_  
No time to wallow in the mire  
Try now we can only lose  
And our love become a funeral pyre…”

The sweet voice, mixed with the rhythmic tapping against the wheel, sounded like a choir of angels to Paul’s tired ears. It reminded him of one incident not very long ago, when they had happened to be in the same dressing room, and he had busted his friend singing in the shower.

_“I don’t wanna close my eyes, I don’t wanna fall asleep, ‘cause I miss you, baby…” Richard was still singing aloud when he opened the door._

_Surprisingly, Paul was sitting on the bench in the dressing room even though Richard thought he’d been alone the whole time. He froze to his place, only a small towel covering the most strategic places. “H-how long have you been here?” He sounded horrified._

_“For a while, perhaps.”_

_“You should have at least said something!”_

_“Relax, it was lovely to listen to you singing Aerosmith in the shower.”_

Paul smiled when he looked back at the incident. Richard had been pouting for two days and didn’t want to talk anything about it afterward. Paul couldn’t get why his friend had been so concerned about his voice even though he had even been a singer for a band. In his opinion, Richard’s voice was lovely, and he would have wanted to listen to it even more.

Right now, it seemed like Richard had forgotten his vow of though - he was singing his heart out. Eyes closed, Paul concentrated on listening to the sweet tones.

The next thing he noticed was a gentle poke on his shoulder.

“Zeit aufzuwachen, we are here now.”

“…mhh?” It seemed eventually, he had fallen asleep. Paul rubbed his drowsy eyes in confusion.

“So, how do you feel now? Any better after a nap?” his friend asked.

“Yeah, Alles ist gut, no worries.”

There was a brief silent moment when Paul tried his best to wake up. Richard looked outside, avoiding his friend’s eyes. “I was so worried about you, I thought that…something serious happened or I caused you more distress or something…please don’t do that ever again,” he whispered.

“It’s not because of you, I’m just…a bit tired and tense, that’s all. Also, I’ve had a terrible headache the whole day so that might be one of the reasons for the…thing.” It was still embarrassing to admit that he had fainted.

Richard wasn’t convinced of the vague explanations - of course, they all had been tired and tense for a long time, but it had never ended up anyone having a complete blackout before. He was sure that there was something his friend was hiding from him, but maybe now it wasn’t the right time to try figuring it out. The man needed his rest.

“Promise me that you’ll call me or anyone of us if you don’t feel well during the night, ok?”

_Seems like the chicken mom mode is starting again._ “Yeah, yeah, of course. I think all I need now is a good night’s sleep,” Paul said, a bit annoyance in his voice.

He didn’t make a move to leave from the car even though it was past midnight already. Instead, they both sat still, avoiding looking at each other. The strained atmosphere was like from a disgustingly romantic teenage movie, in which the boy is escorting his crush back home and neither of them doesn’t know how to farewell each other. It was like they both wanted to release the feelings inside them, to open up to each other, but neither of them had the courage to take the first step.

Paul couldn’t stand the silence anymore. “Maybe I should really go now, it’s pretty late already.”

Before he managed to escape, Richard grabbed his hand. “Gute Nacht und schlaf schön. I’ll see you tomorrow. And I assure you that if you are not ready at 8 am, I’ll drag you out of your bed.”

“You’re impossible…” Paul shook his head and released his hand from the tight grip.

The other man tilted his head and grinned. “But you have to admit that you still couldn’t live without me even though I’m impossible, right?”

“Gute Nacht, Reesh,” Paul said quickly. That goddamn grin with the tilted head was his weak spot. It seemed like Richard knew very well that he had the skill to melt Paul’s heart every single time with that gesture.

While walking towards his house Paul turned and saw Richard still stalking him from the car. He almost lifted the doorknob to hide inside but changed his mind - actually, a bit of fresh air was welcoming in this situation, because too much stuff was swirling around his head still. He waved his friend the one last goodbye before sneaking to the backyard where he could finally be in his own peace.

Paul sat down on the tiny terrace and lighted up a cigarette. It was the end of the spring and the night was mild with hints of the upcoming summer in the air. He looked at the sky - it was a shame that because of the heavy light pollution of the enormous city, it was impossible to see any stars. Paul had always loved to sink into his own thoughts while staring at the distant space, though now, he had to be content with listening to occasional car honks and other noises of the busy urban life.

The day, which had already been strange from the start, had ended up being even stranger than he could have ever imagined. Everything was so surreal when Paul tried to recall it, just like a very bizarre dream. When he closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on sucking in the sour taste of the roll between his fingers, the only thing he could see was a disturbingly vivid image of Richard, licking his lips, looking so focused when he was about to kiss him.

_Kiss._

Paul didn’t know what to think of that word. Yes, of course, he knew it usually involved something amorous, but what about when you were talking about kissing a friend - should it still be considered romantic? Had their friendship ever been a typical one? Paul could only wonder Richard’s opinion about the kissing - his friend’s serious face was haunting in his mind more and more when he thought about it. What was even more disturbing was the fact that when they had kissed Paul had expected it to be just a gentle, light touch - instead, it had been a bit too passionate for being just an act. To be honest, Paul had been more than happy to answer his friend’s smooch. It felt like a long-time yearning had finally gotten some positive response. Had it been just a cocky performance or perhaps something more? For that pondering, Paul didn’t have the energy now. His headache was insidiously coming back even though a nap and fresh air had eased it a bit.

It felt like two sides were arguing in his head.

_It was just an irrelevant act with no hidden meanings. You’re tired, overdramatic and lonely because of the divorce. It will eventually fade when the tour starts and both of you are too busy to think about these complicated feelings. Stop acting like a teenager._

He had excused all these mixed emotions with his divorce from a long-term relationship. It wasn’t even a year yet, so the recovery process was still going on. Maybe his solitary mind was just seeking for attention from basically anyone - even from a long-time friend.

_You’re lying to yourself. You know very well what this all is about, you just don’t want to accept it and it’s eating you inside._

That was the voice Paul had been trying to avoid, pushing it into the darkest corner of his unconscious mind. Apparently, today’s weird incidents had revealed it uncontrollably - it was like a Pandora’s box was suddenly opened inside his head. Like a volcano, all the feelings were erupting at once and it was impossible to stop it anymore.

Paul was clenching his hands into fists, trying to blink back the unpleasant pressure of upcoming tears at the same time.

_You know very well the feeling which has been growing stronger day by day when you have gotten closer to each other. You can’t ignore the way he looks at you with adoration or the way he laughs at your dry jokes a bit too loud. You have certainly noticed how you hug or stare at each other a bit too long, and deep down in your heart, you know the answer, why. You just don’t want to say it out loud - you’re afraid you’ll be hurt again. Even seeing him smiling and talking with a pretty woman gives you a nasty twitch of jealousy._

_C’mon, me, jealous of him? He’s the most childish, the most arrogant and the most annoying person I know. Just shut the fuck up already and leave me alone. It’s nothing like that, we’ve known each other for decades for Christ’s sake - why would I suddenly have some deeper feelings for him? We are like brothers and it should stay like that. End of discussion._

But his mind was not going to let him walk away from this so easily.

_Even though you try to claim that he annoys you, you think at the same time that he’s the sweetest, the most genuine and the most adorable person walking on this earth. You cannot resist him, but still, you think it’s easier to isolate yourself, act like everything is as it has always been, but it’s not. Everything’s changed._

_Just admit it._

Paul felt like he was getting almost schizophrenic with the conflicting voices inside his head. He stood up, now wiping tears from his eyes. Why had he gotten so emotional suddenly? Maybe it was better to go to sleep.

Annoyed with himself and at everything right now, he walked towards the back door, when suddenly that _something_, which he was so afraid of, came to his mind like a thunderbolt.

_You are in love with him. _

_You’re so madly in love with Richard Z. Kruspe that every cell of your body is screaming his name._

_And you can’t do anything about it - just admit it. _

Trembling and crying, Paul sat back down, now speaking out loud: “No way…it’s… it can’t be…” From all the moments of his life, why it had to happen right now, when they were about to start their biggest tour, their biggest challenge. And why in the bloody hell, from all of the human beings walking on this earth, his complex brain chose to fell in love with _Richard_, his old friend, and a colleague. It didn’t make any sense.

Or it made a _perfect_ sense.

It hadn’t happened suddenly - the creeping feeling had been there, perhaps from that particular day from the early 90’s, when they had met each other for the first time in that fateful band practice in Schneider’s parents’ basement. All those bizarre, uneasy feelings afterward, forming for years. All those disturbing, even slightly erotic dreams he’d been trying to reject - it all made sense now.

Paul Landers was madly _in love_ and he couldn’t help it. How cathartic it was to admit it, yet so inexplicably terrifying.

“Fuck…holy shit...” he mumbled various swearwords and buried his face in his hands, sobbing louder and louder. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

It was no use to hide anything anymore, so he was crying visibly out loud in the middle of the night in his backyard. He didn’t even bother to worry about what somebody might think of finding him in a state like this. Thank God, he was alone, and all the neighbors were fast asleep already.

Anger, frustration, embarrassment, and yearning to be loved - those all came out at once in the most intense way possible. Paul was walking restlessly around the tiny backyard, kicking the grass and stones on the ground at the same time. He didn’t care at all how silly it must have looked. All he could think of was that he wanted to get this inner tangle - which had been restricting him for way too long - out, in any way possible.

“I don’t understand anything about this, for fuck’s sake!” he screamed to the void.

After a good amount of shrieking, hitting various innocent objects and almost throwing a rock to his window, the hyperventilate-crying slowly turned into sniveling, making it finally possible to breathe. Paul was still shocked, but the heated outburst seemed like it had eventually eased the distress - his emotionally filled brain was finally slowly ready to give some space to rational thinking. 

He tried his best to think long and hard how to proceed with this. It was inevitable now: even though what the answer might be, he had to tell Richard everything. But when and how? Should he write a letter and hand it to him in secret? Way too cheesy and childish. He wanted to tell it more personally - he didn’t want to be a coward, even how shameful this all was.

Suddenly, a frightening thought came to Paul’s mind: what if he’d do it straight away? It had to be done at some point, so why not now. Besides, Richard had told him that he could call in an emergency, so this could be considered as one.

Still trembling from head to toe, Paul took his phone in his hand. There wasn’t going to be a perfect moment anyways and he had already embarrassed himself totally today, so what the heck - there was nothing to lose anymore. If Richard was going to hate him for the rest of his life because of this, then let it be like that then. It didn’t matter anymore.

He dialed the familiar number, his thumb ready for pressing the call button.

He inhaled. _Ok, I have no idea what I’m going to say, but shit, let’s do this, 1,2,3…_

Just when Paul was about to hit the button, he started to hesitate. _Something’s not right._

He put the phone to the ground and blinked his eyes like it would have helped him to comprehend what he was just about to do. Rational thinking was making more and more way to the earlier emotional rant, making it possible to consider his actions. Maybe this wasn’t a very suitable moment after all - they had lots of work to do tomorrow. But would there ever be a perfectly suitable moment? He had no clue about it, but at least he didn’t want any more drama now.

Paul sighed and put the phone back to his pocket finally. Maybe he should still wait a bit. He was way too emotional tonight and he would regret the consequences tomorrow if he would listen to his treacherous intuition over his reasonable thinking.

When calmed down enough, Paul finally stepped into the house. Tomorrow was going to be a long day again and he didn’t want it to be ruined completely because of this…whatever you could call it. His band was way more important than his foolish feelings - there was going to be a time and a place for them later. The day had been exhausting enough already.

Jim Morrison’s words were still echoing in his head while laying in his bed: "_The time to hesitate is through, no time to wallow in the mire. Try now we can only lose, and our love become a funeral pyre…"_

Whatever might happen, it was in destiny’s hands now. At least Paul hoped their love wouldn’t end up becoming a funeral pyre.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, in my story Paul is divorced - I didn't want to have a love triangle, lol. Once again, just my headcanon.
> 
> Thanks for reading. <3


	3. Epilogue: Insomnia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard tries to comprehend the thoughts about the kissing incident when he suddenly has a sweet memory from the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve reached the point in this story from where I honestly don’t even know anymore what is gonna happen next. Basically my original plans changed after the last fic. Seems like the characters are in charge now and my job is to try to write what they are telling me as best as I can. 
> 
> This chapter wasn’t supposed to happen, but it just spoke to me, so here we go!

The petite figure was merging with the dark night and even though he tried his best, Richard couldn’t take his eyes off from the gorgeous silhouette - the one which had become so familiar over 25 years of knowing each other. After today’s unpredictable incidents though, Richard felt like he was looking at his old friend with brand new eyes - with a kind of vague yearning both in his heart and in his soul. The emotion made familiar lyrics to loop in his head:

_Sehnsucht versteckt,_

_sich wie ein Insekt._

_Im Schlafe merkst du nicht,_

_dass es dich sticht._

It was like an insect indeed - like an annoying, itching feeling inside he couldn’t shake off.

_Sehnsucht ist so grausam._

Richard could only wonder what was Paul now thinking of him - had he gone too far? He hoped they could talk all of this over as soon as possible. Sooner or later, he was sure that the uncertainty would make him crazy if he wouldn’t do anything about it.

Awoken from his thoughts by Paul’s waving and then making his way to the backyard, Richard knew he had to leave as well. It was indeed a bit weird to stalk his bandmate from the car at midnight, even though how pleasant it had been. For a second, Richard had considered that should he follow Paul and ask still the one last time what was going on. His friend hadn’t been behaving like himself at all even though he had been assuring that everything was fine. These moments, Richard hoped to have the superpower to read minds. It would have made the situation way less complicated and wouldn’t have left him with all the questions. 

The journey back home went on automation - even if there would have been police on the road, Richard wouldn’t have noticed anything. So many thoughts and concerns were revolving around his head that it was difficult to focus on anything that was going on outside.

Richard collapsed on the sofa with a huge sigh when he had finally reached his destination. His eyes were heavy as lead, but he couldn’t fall asleep. Instead, he tried his best to keep himself busy by putting the tv on maximum volume and lighting up probably the millionth cigarette today. Luckily, there was nobody complaining about smoking inside now.

A lady on the tv’s reality show was weeping when she had been voted out from his team, but Richard didn’t get what was going on in the mindless program even though his eyes were fixed on the screen.

_Oh, Paul Landers, you sweet, sweet man, what have you done to me?_

He tried to make sense of his feelings: what on earth had actually happened today? Of course, he knew the script very well: they had agreed to make this one little kiss on the stage, meant to be an innocent act. He and Paul were at first pretending it was nothing, no big deal - hell’s, they had performed embarrassing and awkward stuff together several times before. In the end, it had taken forever, and finally, when they’d had the courage to actually make it happen, Paul had fainted. Richard didn’t like that something he’d done had made his friend to feel sick.

Richard had been scared to death - in the worst scenarios in his mind he had thought that Paul wouldn’t have woken up anymore or would have had amnesia. What a nice start for a tour it would have been.

_Holy shit._

And even more disturbingly, even though how sorry he was for Paul, he didn’t want to admit how much he had enjoyed the situation. Like a lively gif image, Paul with raised eyebrows, lurking him in, was looping in his already way too messed head. Richard had been sober as a judge the whole day, but still, a dizzy feeling was distracting him constantly - like he’d been drinking nonstop for a week and didn’t really know what was going on anymore. How could he make this to stop? Could he live his normal life, to proceed with their band and their tour, when he was having painfully strong feelings like this?

_What if he hates me for the rest of his life because of this? At least he talked with me afterward, but what if he was just pretending, just being polite? Have I ruined everything now?_

Nothing made sense anymore.

Despite all of this vague mess, from one thing Richard was completely sure: that _thing_ which was painful to admit, yet so self-evident. It had been clear as a day for a long time, but he had tried to push the feeling away. So far, he had managed pretty well, but something about today had revealed it once again.

_Love. _The sweetest, yet the most hurtful word known in mankind - and he had been _in love_ for so long now that it almost hurt physically.

The target of his desperate love wasn’t the easiest one indeed: his long-time friend, colleague and almost like a brother, their relationship slowly, but steadily developing and changing. Richard had tried to avoid thinking about it too much - he was totally sure that Paul wasn’t interested in him in that kind of way and their semi-romantic moments had been just playing in his friend’s opinion. Because Richard had always been a person who wasn’t ashamed of physical proximation - Till was still reminding him occasionally from that interview in which he’d hugged the poor girl when she had asked how Germans express their feelings - he had so far managed to use the trait as his excuse when something he’d done had raised questions.

But, of course, he couldn’t keep lying forever - neither to himself nor to others. Richard was totally sure that their bandmates - especially Till, whose eagle eye didn’t seem to miss anything - had started to suspect that there was something going on between the two guitarists.

Richard wrapped himself tightly in a blanket. He wished he would have been a chameleon and could blend into the sofa material - disappear from this planet and from all the conflicting human behavior and feelings.

He closed his eyes and tried - almost forced himself - to think about anything else, but the only thing that came to his mind was Paul.

_P-A-U-L_

A simple word, with four letters, but yet, the word which was capable of doing nasty things inside him. The word which had been the theme of his way too lively, even _sensual,_ daydreams.

_Sigh. _Paul was so close to him, yet unreachable.

While being in a dream-like state, random memories and thoughts about his dearest bandmate looping on, the cinema of his mind sent him suddenly back to the early 90’s - back to the very first moment which had led to this eventually. At least it was something else than Paul with a kissing face, _thank God_.

The slightly moldy scent of their rehearsal room in the basement was still so vivid, even though it was already decades from that fateful night when Paul Landers had stepped into Richard Kruspe’s life.

_“You gotta be kidding me,” Richard snorted. “Where on earth is this ‘second guitarist’ of yours you promised? It seems like he’s only in your imagination.”_

_“He promised to come, so we’ll wait,” Till said, trying to calm their edgy guitarist down._

_They had been expecting the possible new player to show up at 6 pm - the clock on the wall showed it was 6:30 already. The lingering was especially difficult for Richard who had already earned his reputation of being an exaggeratedly strict and punctual person. “A perfectionist, straight from the infernal flames of Hell,” like Schneider had described._

_“Flake knows the guy from their earlier band, and he assured he’s gonna be trustworthy,” Till said and was about to continue while the keyboardist shouted behind him: “He’s just really bad with schedules. I know him, he’s a gifted musician and a nice person. We should give him a chance. Let’s don’t judge him by this, ok?”_

_But Richard wasn’t convinced. He was always uncertain about meeting new people - he thought they could be a threat to him. “You really think so?”_

_“Let’s just be patient. I’m sure he has a good explanation for the delay,” Flake replied. He didn’t want to start an argument now._

_“And why do we need a second guitarist anyway?” In Richard’s nightmares, the new guy would take his place and act as a bandleader - or even worse, be more gorgeous than him._

_As usually, Schneider started to get annoyed at their guitarist. “You know very well that our riffs are so plain that we need something more. And, it’s always nice to have a new perspective as well. I agree with Till and Flake, we should wait and see who this guy is. If we don’t get along, we can dump him and that’s it. Not necessary to make so much drama out of this.”_

_The percussionist’s straightforward style of expressing opinions was unbearable for Richard. Till had joked that they often resembled two roosters having a fierce cockfight when they were arguing over which one of them was right._

_“…you claim that I’m the one making drama?” the guitarist lashed out and approached Schneider, leering him. Every single time that particular gaze made the drummer uncomfortable. “Last time when I checked, it was this guy, who we don’t even know yet, who hadn’t kept his promise, so piss off for accusing me!”_

_“W…hat?” Schneider was so shocked about the insult that he froze for a moment. _

_When he had finally gathered his thoughts and was about to say something against, the guitarist was quicker and announced: “Screw this, I’m gonna have a smoke. Please let me know when this imaginative creature comes. If he doesn’t appear, I’m going home. I have more important things to do than to wait for him ‘til the end of the world.” _

_At the same time, while Richard was yelling, Schneider’s mom arrived with a bunch of freshly made sandwiches and beercans in her hands. She startled when they almost bumped into each other with the guitarist who was rushing outside. _

_“Hallo, wie geht es dir?” she asked with a sweet voice when she stood in the middle of their basement, now changed into her son’s and his friends’ rehearsal room._

_“Gut, gut…we are Mama quite busy here now…”_

_Even though they all were adults already, Herr and Frau Schneider wanted to treat their son’s friends as a part of the family. The drummer thought it was embarrassing while the rest accepted offered food and drinks with pleasure - none of them showered in money, so they welcomed all free stuff they could get._

_But Richard wasn’t interested in snacks now. He preferred to pout alone, enjoying his smoking moment. _

_The guitarist had pondered the band’s future quite a lot. Even though it seemed pretty promising, he doubted it now and then. Did this make any sense at all? Everyone around him had all of his life claimed that he should get a degree and get a real job - get a normal, adult life. He should take his head out of the clouds and be responsible. In a weak moment, when nothing had seemed to work out in his life, he’d been convinced that maybe he’d really been wrong. Maybe he should try this “adult life” thing. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. Not his dream, but a way to adapt to society, to make himself accepted - the first time in his life._

_But all those doubts had vanished into thin air when he met Till Lindemann - a sensitive poet, who seemed to understand him completely even though they were so different as persons. What had brought them together were the crazy visions, the lust for life: the lust for being an artist and not to give a shit about what the others were thinking._

_Richard knew in his heart his real dream: to express himself and to be respected by what he was doing. For Christ’s sake, life was too short not to be lived to the fullest, and music, that was his whole life. It was the torch of creativity he had to feed regularly - otherwise, he would slowly and painfully perish._

_He sighed and looked at the sky, trying to blink back tears. The last thing he wanted now was to weep like a baby._

_The sensitive thoughts didn’t have a chance to last for long though because they were interrupted by a distant, loud rattle - it sounded like somebody had made an orchestra out of pots and pans. Richard was sure it was the neighbor’s kids goofing around and didn’t mind about it so much at first._

_But the noise kept getting closer and closer to the house - seemed like kids couldn’t have been blamed for it anymore._

_Richard rubbed his eyes. What in God’s name is it?_

_The question got its answer in a minute when Richard saw a small cycling figure approaching the house with a huge guitar bag._

_The figure - now Richard could see it was a blond man, probably around his age - stopped and so did the cacophony. “Is this…Christoph Schneider’s house?” he asked, still panting from the cycling._

_“Yes.” _

_The incognito man smiled so brightly that it almost seemed like the whole dark street was suddenly lighted up. “Wunderbar! So umm, this band about Stein…something is rehearsing here, am I right?”_

_“Rammstein, yes.”_

_“Then I’m in the right place! And I’m terribly sorry I’m late, there was a huge traffic jam and I got stuck. Also, I didn’t realize this place was on the other side of the city.”_

_Richard didn’t reply anything - he kept staring at the distance, busy with smoking. Seemed like their new guitarist had finally appeared. He wasn’t sure, was he ready for this. _

_The guy left his wrecked bicycle - Richard could only wonder, what kind of torture the poor vehicle had been going through - in front of the house and with his guitar bag, came back to the other man. “So, we finally meet, I’ve been looking forward to this! Flake has told me so much about the new band project of yours. I’m Paul Landers,” he said and offered his hand. _

_But Richard acted like he had forgotten completely how human interactions worked. “Let’s go inside,” he answered nonchalantly to the other man’s friendly gesture. Paul almost had to run to keep up with his pace._

_Finally, they both were in the basement and when Schneider’s mom saw there was a new guest in their house, she hurried to get a sandwich and a beer for Paul as well. _

_All of the band - except for Richard, who was still acting grumpy - greeted the new musician and with Flake, they hugged: it was nice to reunite after playing in the same band for so long._

_“Okay, so what kind of music do you guys play?” Paul asked while munching his bread._

_“It’s a bit difficult to explain. Maybe we’ll just play something and you’ll make your own opinion,” Flake answered._

_“Do you want to hear the lyrics first?” Till asked._

_“Yeah, sure.”_

_“Okay, we have one completed song and it’s called Herzeleid.” Till looked at their possible new guitarist’s curious face and continued: “The other guys composed and arranged it and I wrote the text. Let us know what you think of it and please be straightforward, if it’s completely Scheisse.” _

_He cleared his throat and started to read the text out loud:_

_“Bewartet einander vor Herzeleid,_

_denn kurz ist die Zeit die ihr beisammen seid._

_Denn wenn euch auch viele Jahre vereinen,_

_einst werden sie wie Minuten euch scheinen._

_Herzeleid_

_Bewahret einander vor der Zweisamkeit.”_

_When Till had finished his recitation, nobody said anything for a while. The singer got a bit uneasy. “Yeah, well…I know the lyrics are a bit cheesy, I’m not sure from where they actually came from…” He knew very well that the text told about his own recent painful break-up, but he didn’t want to open up about his love life now._

_Paul stood up and gave Till the brightest smile possible. “No need to worry, it was beautiful! Very heartbreaking and melancholic. You truly are a talented writer.”_

_Till wasn’t sure was the new guy flattering or did he really mean what he said. “Danke…” _

_“I’m curious to hear the whole song while already the lyrics sound so awesome.”_

_Richard was in a mood for challenging. “We are here to play so just grab your guitar and start.”_

_Paul took the last sip from his beer and said: “Yeah, sure, but can I get the chords or some kind of instructions? And is there a second amplifier somewhere? I couldn’t take mine on my bike.”_

_He expected to get at least some guidance, but to his surprise, there was none - Richard just started playing the heavy riff without even bothering to look at their new possible bandmember._

_Okay, did I say something wrong, or is this how this band usually works? Well, if I want to be in, I just have to adapt, Paul thought, and with Flake’s help, got another, smaller amplifier. He tried his best to mimic the chords by ear and occasionally trying to stalk the lead guitarist - it was quite impossible though when he seemed to have turned his back from Paul on purpose._

_Even though with all his best effort, Paul could hear he sounded like absolute bullshit. His precious instrument had turned into a torture machine - he could have never imagined he could create discords so horrible. _

_When the song ended he didn’t dare to look at anyone - maybe they had supposed that he would have had a perfect pitch and were now disappointed. He’d made them wait and it had ended up being a failure. _

_Scheisse. _

_Paul thought that maybe it would be best if he’d pack his things up and leave without saying anything. The cocky guitarist of this band seemed like he knew what he was doing so why he should be bothered any longer._

_Till came next to the new player when he saw that he was visibly disappointed. “Es tut mir leid, Reesh isn’t the easiest person to deal with, he takes this band death seriously. It’s nothing personal against you,” the singer whispered so quietly that Richard couldn’t hear._

_But Paul wasn’t convinced of the soothing words and continued with his packing. “C’mon, you have to admit that I sounded like shit.” He stopped for a while and nodded towards the lead guitarist. “I can see from his face that he’s unsatisfied. He probably hates me already. Maybe it’s better that I leave and you continue while you still have a good start here.”_

_Till tried his best to be supportive and explained: “None of us is a professional musician, so no worries. You at least tried your best. The only problem was that our little diva didn’t bother to tell you that the song is in drop D tuning. Let’s try again.” He squeezed the new player’s shoulder gently like begging him to stay with them._

_Paul sighed. “Okay, one more time then.” Even though he was disappointed to himself he had an instinct that he should give it a try. _

_He grabbed his guitar from the floor. “Let’s play.”_

_He didn’t know at that moment that the decision changed the band’s path completely. _

_After the surprisingly successful band practice, everybody had left except for the two guitarists who were having the last smokes before heading home._

_“I really like what you have here. It seems promising and I’m more than happy to be a part of it. I can only imagine what we will achieve together.” He didn’t think that the band would get very popular - it was technically impossible to be world-famous with dark German lyrics and simple, aggressive riffs. At least he hoped they could record some albums and have small tours around Germany. To have fun and create art with a bunch of guys who seemed quite nice already._

_To his utter surprise, the other man said unexpectedly: “I have to admit that you weren’t so bad at all in the end.” _

_“R-really?” Paul didn’t know his fellow guitarist so well yet, but he seemed very picky. Even this small kind of compliment must have been a huge thing from him._

_Richard nodded. “After you figured the song out, you played just fine. I’m looking forward to what we can achieve together as well.” He turned and the first time that night looked at Paul straight in the eyes. “You passed the test. Welcome to the band.”_

_The target of the small compliment tried to act as casual as he could even though his heart started pounding disturbingly rapidly. He didn’t have any clue what this “test” he had just passed was, but it sounded nice to hear he had succeeded. _

_Paul cleared his throat and said: “One thing bothers me still though.” He came a bit closer and continued: “We didn’t say hi properly and actually, I haven’t even heard your whole name yet.”_

_Richard stared at the offered hand for a while, but finally - to Paul’s surprise and relief - he took it. “Richard.”_

_Paul couldn’t hide his smirking - the other man had announced his name so comically officially like he would have been the most important person walking on this earth. “Richard, who exactly?”_

_“C’mon, do you now want my social security number as well or what? Very well then, it’s 705…”_

_“What on earth you think I’d do with your social security number?” Paul interrupted even though he had to admit that he liked the new acquaintance's sarcastic sense of humor already. “Just that it would be nice to know the full name of the guy, whose band I’m apparently in now.”_

_Richard straightened his back and with another firm handshake, announced: “Richard Zven Kruspe, nice to meet you.”_

_“Paul Heiko Landers, pleased to meet you too.”_

Richard knew from that moment he would never forget the name - the bond had been formed for eternity on that fateful night.

He sighed._ Till death do us part, mein Paulchen._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I played around with the band's history, it's not supposed to be accurate with real life. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, kudos and comments. ~


End file.
